


Blistered Hands

by Aurorealis



Series: Hobbit prompt fills [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bending (Avatar), Community: hobbit_kink, Elemental Magic, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurorealis/pseuds/Aurorealis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fill for prompt on Hobbit kmeme: </p><p>"Hobbits control elements. This is so commonplace for them that not only do they have no clue that non-hobbits don't have this ability, but it never occurs to them that they could probably rule Arda with tiny iron fists if they wanted to. And even if it did occur to them, they wouldn't care enough to do it. World domination makes you late for tea. Bilbo isn't special compared to other hobbits and when none of the dwarves use power over the elements to make traveling easier, he assumes they're being all hardcore and he keeps himself from using it too to fit in. Then something happens and he ends up using his power to get rid of the threat in a moment of panic."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It must be privacy

**Author's Note:**

> link to full prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/10731.html?thread=22015723#t22015723
> 
> note- there is no romance as of yet, but if I do decide on one, I'll add it to the tags. I've never been much of a shipper in writing terms since most of my "ships" are 100% cute friendships, blushing confessions, and shy kisses anyways. 
> 
> story is largely unedited and completely unbeta'd, but that's how my kink meme fills roll

Among Hobbits, there was a secret. It was the very best kept secret that wasn't kept at all. The bending of the elements- earth, fire, air, and water. From an outsider's perspective, it probably seemed extraordinary, but to Hobbits, it was a regular aspect of life.

All Hobbits could bend, and they did so often. However natural bending was to Hobbits however, there was one aspect of their culture that was the biggest contributor to most of the world's ignorance. The only rule to bending was not to rely on bending. Yavanna's precious blessing was only to be used among kin, except in times of great need or celebration. As a result, a surprisingly large part of Hobbit life was actually completely bereft of the power. It just so happened that outsiders only saw that side of Hobbits.

If only the elves and dwarves and men could see the great midsummer and midwinter celebrations. Fire benders lit great roaring bonfires and lifted them to the sky. Air benders trailed paper decorations, bright and colourful, through currents in the air, weaving between grasping children fingers and errant sparks of flame. Earth benders created the temporary arena of the festival, elegant earthen arches to rival even elven architecture. Water benders created delicate ice sculptures and mirror smooth plates of ice to decorate and eat off of. Those celebrations were the only times that Hobbits came together to really show the feats they could accomplish. 

However, Hobbits were never particularly showy by nature. In fact, it was a common, unspoken assumption that all races had bending centred festivals such as these. Many of the more curious Hobbits even speculated how much more wondrous the elvish version of the festival must be, or how much more powerful the dwarvish version must be. It never occurred to anyone that what they had was special, enough to render any non-hobbit speechless.

Which was why, when Bilbo noticed Bombur having trouble lighting the fire, he didn't even think to offer his aid, despite being a fire bender. With 13 dwarves, at least one of them would have also been able to bend fire, right? They must just not want to share in front of Bilbo. He understood, the fire could still be started normally with a bit of effort after all, the situation wasn't exactly dire. Besides, Bilbo probably would have declined anyways. It had only been a few days, they were hardly good friends or kin yet. 

Besides, despite Gandalf's friendship with his mother, even he didn't know Bilbo's element. The last time Gandalf had visited, his element hadn't shown up yet. Not to mention, it simply wasn't Hobbit custom to reveal someone else's element, even if it's from a mother to a family friend. From what little Bilbo remembered though, Gandalf was always a bit nosy. The only reason he hadn't bugged Bilbo about it was probably the fact that it would be revealed soon enough. Even if Bilbo remained a stranger to all these dwarves, there would surely be a point where fire would save his hide. It was one of the few times Bilbo was grateful to have fire, since it wasn't the most useful element around the shire. Plus, he had always silently wanted to take after one of his parents, like most Hobbits did. Sturdy and unchanging Earth from the Baggins, and light, freeing air from the Tooks. But, like always, he would just tell himself- fire was perfectly respectable, if a little accident prone. 

The journey continued on, and Bilbo didn't spare anymore thought on it. Once it was pouring when someone was trying to light the fire. Bilbo wanted to get warm as much as the next person, but it still wasn't much of an emergency. Yet, he was wet and shivering. Bilbo was just a little confused by now. Dwarves seemed like such practical creatures, he would have assumed the privacy guideline moot in the face of efficiency. Or maybe, those sad attempts at lighting soggy wood was a message for Bilbo. Maybe they wanted him to give them some privacy before someone could light it. If that was the case, Bilbo figured he better skip off for a minute, and did so, making the excuse of relieving himself.

However, when he returned there was still no fire. In fact, they had given up and were huddling under what meagre protection they had, eating cold rations. Bilbo sighed. Maybe it wasn't privacy at all, maybe Dwaves did things differently? Perhaps bending was seen as a form of weakness and not relying on it was a show of strength or morale or some such thing. Heck, even at the Shire, there was a name for people who used their element to an excess- silver toed. They were Hobbits who thought themselves superior and above hard work, as if they wore silver under their feet less they touch the ground. That was why Bilbo elected not to complain, and simply huddled under his own cloak.


	2. It must be toughness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The troll encounter goes a little bit differently and yet somehow still the same. Bonus points for a more BAMF Bilbo.

In theory, the trolls should have been a piece of cake. Lighting a fire under their bums would have probably spooked them well enough to run off, and then Bilbo could emerge from the bushes and free the ponies. But then, he looked at Fili and Kili, who despite their worries did not offer up their element to play. Any one would have helped. Water could have been used to sweep their boiling stew into the sky to lead them away. Earth could put a wall between trolls and pony, creating enough distraction to escape. Even air could be used to flit around the trolls freely, sending clouds of dirt into the air and blocking their sight. 

But they made no mention of it, even though Bilbo was quite sure this was a perfectly good situation for it, privacy be damned. With a suffering sigh, Bilbo realized that it must be that Dwarven toughness showing. They could use their element perfectly well, but they wanted to test Bilbo as a burglar. After all, if he were to face Smaug, his paltry little flames would only serve to help him live a split second longer in the dragon fire before being burnt to a crisp. 

So Bilbo bit his tongue and crawled into the camp site. He would play their game if it meant he would get an iota of respect around here. But the second his life was in danger, all bets were off. 

After reaching the rope, Bilbo briefly wished he bended water, it could have been used to quietly cut the thick rope, and the ponies would be free with no one the wiser. But no, he had to go for that troll's knife. It would only have spooked the mounts had he tried to burn it down. 

For his first time actually trying to sneak, Bilbo was sure he had done quite well. By most means, getting right up behind the troll with a hand on his knife without being seen would have been considered a success. But then a giant, rough hand just had to graze him, meaty fingers instinctively tightening around Bilbo's torso. 

Before he knew it, Bilbo was dangling upside down in front of an ugly troll face. His mind scrambled in fear as the trolls tried to interrogate him. Passively, Bilbo wondered if Fili and Kili were still nearby, and if now would finally be a good enough time for them to use their bending already!

Bilbo ceased his struggling for a moment, catching the troll's attention. How stupid was he? Privacy and toughness be damned already, Bilbo wasn't going to wait any longer. So Bilbo took a deep, grounding breath, pumping the fiery core of his heart. He pushed at the energy, drawing it down his body and into his legs, where the troll held him firmly. Bilbo knew he would need a lot of heat to break through thick troll skin, so he channeled with everything he had, concentrating the heat of molten ore out through his legs. Steam immediately started hissing around the troll's grip. His captor turned to look at the steam dumbly, and Bilbo could see the agony slowly dawn on the troll's face.

At that same moment, Kili came charging out in the open, cutting at the leg of a nearby troll. It's squeals matched with Bilbo's captor, who immediately flung Bilbo away, waving his hand about.   
“Hot! Why is it hot!?” It screeched angrily. But it had no time to piece together the answer, as the rest of the company came charging in with a roar. 

Bilbo scrambled out of the way of sword and axe. He would be little help here. Elements weren't so much meant for real battles, especially not against thick skinned trolls. So instead of getting underfoot, Bilbo seized the fallen knife from earlier. He also wasn't stupid however, and kept his fire ready, burning hot just under his skin, steaming lightly in the cool air. When another giant fist reached for Bilbo's middle, it only enclosed him for a second before he expelled the heat, sending the troll reeling back with a yelp. Bilbo didn't bother looking back, finally slicing through the rope with another tug. 

“Come on, let's go.” Bilbo tried encouraging the ponies, but they were too skittish from the battle. Now, he did finally turn to look. The trolls were looking harried, but by no means tired. The dwarves on the other hand were being repeatedly thrown about like flies. Bilbo gave one of the reins a stronger tug. If he could lead them away, maybe the company could pull a retreat? 

Bilbo's half hearted plans were pulled to a stop as two of the trolls yanked a smaller figure taught between them. It was Ori, both arms seized by different trolls. He was putting up a commendable struggle, kicking legs out wildly, but it was to no avail. 

“Haha, this one doesn't burn at least!” The left troll snickered, before the other ordered them all to drop their weapons. Bilbo ducked between the ponies in hopes that he had been forgotten. Sure enough, one of the trolls with a burned hand looked around as if confused, but then shrugged and focused on the group again. No doubt he assumed that Bilbo was one of the dwarves now being surrounded. 

Bilbo ducked further down as the trolls started tying the Dwarves up in bags. He wasn't sure what a good plan would be, but he couldn't do anything when Ori was still being held like that. He couldn't use his fire from way over here to make them let go, either. 

But then again, there was a fire right there, under the cooking pot. The only fire Bilbo that had ever controlled that wasn't his own were tiny candle lights. Then again, was a campfire not just a large candle?

Experimentally, he gestured out at the crackling logs. Was that a slight flicker in his direction? Bilbo narrowed his focus and swept out his hands again, and this time the fire did brush into his consciousness. As if he had a physical grasp on it, Bilbo twisted his arms. The camp fire twisted in kind, giving an unnatural lurch that went unnoticed by everyone else. Bilbo poked his head a little higher to see the trolls. Good, they had put Ori down in a bag of his own, and were arguing about deciding who to eat before morning rolled around. 

That was it, they just had to wait until morning. Bilbo didn't need to figure out how to rescue everyone and escape, he just needed to stall for time without anyone dying. Maybe he could flare the fire up and out of control, scattering the trolls? No, that wouldn't work. A few of his companions were uncomfortably close to the flames already, he would end up scorching them. No, Bilbo needed a safer way to distract them.

Bilbo decided to do the opposite of flaring the flames. He closed his hands into fists and drew them together, squeezing down on the fire until it dispersed in an instant, a trail of smoke billowing out as if doused in water. The camp was immediately drenched in darkness and shouts of confusion. 

The trolls started panicking as Bilbo crouched down again out of sight. “Who did that? Which one of you lot put the fire out!?”

“It wasn't me, 'onest! I just wanna eat a dwarf already!” 

“'ey, me neither! It must be some kinda witchcraft!”

“Alright then, which one of you dwarves is the wizard? Just cause you put out the fire doesn't mean we ain't gonna eat you!” 

“I bet it's that quiet one! Just look at that hunk of metal in his head! That's gotta be dark magic keeping him alive!” 

“Alright then, we'll eat the wizard now, then we'll re-light the fire!”

Bilbo's eyes widened in shock as he heard a deep snarl of khuzdul- only semi-familiar by now. The protests of the other dwarves, Bofur the loudest of them, rang out. “Bifur isn't a wizard!”

“Yeah, I'm the wizard, eat me first!” 

Bilbo bit his lip as the situation unravelled. He needed more time. Dawn was approaching, it would be here already if it weren't for the surrounding rock. He peeked over his hiding place again to see one of them reach for Bifur's head. 

“You're making a mistake!” Bilbo shouted out before he even knew what he was doing. Numbly, his legs carried him out into the open as all heads swivelled in his direction. 

“Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

Nervously, but becoming surer of himself by the second, Bilbo launched into his explanation of all the reasons they couldn't eat a single Dwarf yet. Just as he was enlightening the trolls on Dwarven parasites (to Kili's loud objections) Gandalf finally came to the rescue. The sunlight poured into the clearing, and before anyone knew it, the trolls were stone. 

In the following moments of relief and escape, Bilbo didn't even think to wonder why none of the Dwarves had used any sort of element while stuck in the bags. In turn, none of the Dwarves gave a second thought to how Bilbo had managed to get out of the troll's fingers in the first place.


	3. It must be dislike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo thinks he sees another reason that the dwarves don't like him.

The next time Bilbo had cause to use his element wasn't until the goblin cave. There was a brief moment, with the attacking wargs, but Bilbo had been too frightened to properly concentrate, and then they were running. Just the thought of fire and wolves had a deep chill smothering his heart, choking out any defensive flame that might have sprung up. And then, amid a flash of memory he would much rather have avoided, they were running.

The other moment was with the thunder battle. As he lay dangling over the cliff for what felt like hours, he vaguely recalled one of his crazier Took relatives, probably the one he got his fire from. He had claimed to be dangling from the side of a steep gully, much like Bilbo himself, but had saved himself by expelling a long blast of fire from his feet. Supposedly he had managed to flip himself back onto solid ground from the strength of it. 

But Bilbo had hesitated. Thanks to his efforts during the Fell Winter, he was recognized as one of the more skilled benders in the Shire, that Took had been practically a master. His fire had been the biggest festival attraction for years, whereas Bilbo had never shown off at the festivals. What good did fire do a lonely Hobbit surrounded by cloth and paper, anyways? 

Then Thorin had helped him up before he had to chance the risk, and his words had extinguished his inner flame faster and more completely than even his worst nightmares of the Fell Winter. Even the sympathetic glances from the other Dwarves couldn't light him again, for Bilbo was reminded all too strongly of the fact that they still hadn't shared their elements. 

Bilbo thought they had grown close enough by now that at least one of them would have asked for his, or mentioned theirs. Even if they were still unwilling to rely on bending, it was more than disheartening that they had not bothered to even speak of the subject. Was he really so undeserving of the knowledge of such a small part of them? Even Bofur, who had been friendly and nice from the get-go (minus the Bag-end incident of course) hid his element from Bilbo, guarded it with lock and key whenever he spoke of his life before the quest.

It was that, almost as much as Thorin's constant disappointment, that caused him to try and leave. When Bofur protested that Bilbo was “one of them”, he almost wanted to start crying then and there. How could they say that, and be such great people, and yet guard their elements from him, branding him as an outsider? 

Bilbo was fairly sure that he would have, had the ground not opened up to swallow them. The following moments were much too harried to even think of using fire. How could he summon his flame when he could scarcely tell which blurs of motion were dwarf and which were goblin? No, huddling down and out of sight was the only thing he could do, just as with the trolls. Only, unlike with the trolls, he was spotted by one and sent tumbling down the cavern before he could so much as light a spark. 

Facing Gollum was a challenge. Bilbo tried to call up his fire in defense, to drench the cavern in light, but all he could summon forth was a few paltry sputters of fire. It was enough to surprise the skeletal creature, along with his elf blade. 

“Ooh, pretty lights. Now where have we seen that before, precious?” Gollum crowed at the display, even as he skittered back a little. Bilbo cursed inwardly. If only he hadn't let Thorin get to him so badly. His flame was still smothered by the sheer strength of shame and guilt. It would take an equal strength to bring it to full strength again, and it seemed that the fear of being eaten by Gollum was only enough to restore the bare minimum. 

When he lit up a small hand of fire in his hand again, it only served to agitate the creature. “We knows that, we do, precious! Goblinses dont have it, but we remember. We could bend, but we cant remember. How do we bend, precious?” It snarled, caught between clutching its head and reaching out towards Bilbo's flame. 

Bilbo decided at that point he would be better off without his bending. He didn't want to see what this creature would be like if he got even more riled up. So instead he managed to engage it in a game of riddles, escaping with a combination of wit, dumb luck, and that mysterious new ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theres a little bit of world building concerning the bending here. I'm playing a bit off of the episode in avatar where zuko can't fire anymore due to his shifted world view, but it works a little different with bilbo- its not that his entire reason for living has changed, just that strong depressive emotions block his ability. I think its a logical enough jump.


	4. It must be inability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Bilbo is pretty badass with his fire, but he already was even without it

“But you don't have a home. It was taken from you. So I will help you take it back, if I can.” 

Bilbo felt purpose swell within him. Each word reaffirmed his new found determination. Thorin didn't answer him, but Bilbo could see the change in his expression. He was surprised, and slightly taken aback. For once, it wasn't disgust directed at him. When Thorin looked down and away, Bilbo knew he had said the right thing. Looking across the group, all the dwarves had a similar reaction. Some smiled at his words, the others looked away gruffly.

His core, that had only been flickering with the barest heat before, swelled at the acceptance. But he didn't have time to celebrate, as the sound of wargs echoed through the trees. He needed little prompting from Gandalf to run for his life. Nor did he need it to put his sword in front of him when a warg ran towards him.

Bilbo stared almost blankly at the impaled skull in front of him. If he wasn't mistaken, this was his first true kill, using a weapon and not desperately spewing fire around him. If it weren't for the blade, he would be dead- the warg had advanced much to quickly for him to summon flame. But he didn't have time to contemplate it as Gandalf shouted to climb into the trees. All he could do was pull with all his might until the sword came loose and scramble into the closest tree he could.

Wargs snapped at his feet as Bilbo desperately climbed higher. All sense was lost amid the fear. He needed to get away, far away. But then the air groaned, the world began to tilt and snapping jaws grew closer. He jumped to the next tree but now it was falling too, and all he could see was tree limbs, orc blades, and pointed fangs. Another tree, but it was falling even faster. Another and another until all of them had been corralled onto the last tree which began to sway dangerously over the cliff. 

Behind him lay gasping dwarves and empty air. In front lay enemies out for blood. Both ways only lead to death. But he wouldn't let any orcs or wargs lay a hand on the company, not after he just gave that speech. So Bilbo only gave a glance to Gandalf, who knew his intent and nodded, and a thought that he really would have been better off with earth in this situation. But it was okay. Wargs were sort of like wolves, right?

Bilbo ceased his hesitation, and pulled deep at his inner fire. One hand held onto the tree for dear life, the other swept out, a ball of fire sweeping out to blast back the warg and rider that were closest. The warg scrambled back with a pained yelp, fur caught aflame. The orc rider leapt off with a shout. Bilbo didn't give them time to react, throwing his arm in and out wildly, a fresh flame streaking out with each sweep. 

Soon enough the outcrop was aflame, his fire having struck down several of the wargs which were much more flammable with their fur, their panicked flailing enough to catch the dry grass and trees. Gandalf started to help, lighting pine cones with magic and passing them along, allowing the company to throw balls of fire on their own. He was too caught up in desperation to question why other elements were not coming into play, the small part of him that even noticed accepting for now that it was only him. It was only when the sweat of heat and exertion was almost dripping off of him that Bilbo ceased his fire, nearly depleted.

Bilbo wanted to curse aloud when Thorin slowly stood, responding to Azog's mocking. He probably would have if it weren't for exhaustion and fear. Thorin swept his gaze across the destruction around him, some pained howling and screeching still audible as orc and warg succumbed to heat and smoke. His eyes locked with Bilbo's for a moment, giving him an unreadable expression, before tearing away and setting his full concentration on Azog once again.

He didn't stand a chance. One swipe, and he was down. Thorin stood again, only for the next swipe to cleave right into him, sending him sprawling again. Bilbo's heart seized as the massive warg bit into Thorin's midsection, shaking and twisting to provide as much damage as possible before flinging him against a boulder. Thorin couldn't get up again, his sword scattered. Bilbo could see it in Thorin's eyes. He had no more fight in him, he was going to die. 

Gloatingly, Azog sent his henchman to do the finishing deed, as if Thorin wasn't worth the blood that would coat Azog's mace. Bilbo gulped, standing up shakily. He wouldn't let Thorin die, he couldn't. With the fiercest cry he could muster, Bilbo barrelled into the advancing orc, stabbing wildly. A sense of fierce protection raged inside of him. His core that had been almost exhausted crackled and blazed. It had never been so strong before, roaring inside of him until he was sure that his fire could set the entire mountain ablaze. It was fed off of his desperation to complete one task. Don't let his friends die. 

As the orc died, Bilbo turned to face Azog and the remaining orc riders. Using his new found well, Bilbo set his skin alight with a thick band of yellow-white fire. Distantly, he was aware that his coat was about to turn to dust, but he paid no mind to that. Azog caught Bilbo's eyes in that moment, looking surprised and almost hesitant even as he snarled an order to kill him. 

A warg sprinted to him in the same moment that some of the dwarves leaped into the fray. Bilbo sent a solid spike of fire down the length of his sword and swing it in the warg's direction. Flame whipped out from the point, as razor sharp as the blade itself, and cut into both the warg and its orc rider. Another pair sprung from his side, Bilbo flared the heat coating him brighter, blinding them enough so that he could break through their defence. His sword sliced through orc skin even smoother than before, fire spreading deep into its body as blood hissed and evaporated on contact. 

Now the orcs began to show clear signs of fear, their warg mounts hesitating, but still circling around Bilbo with teeth bared. But Bilbo was too enraged, too filled with desperate power, and he drew his guard of flame in tightly, sweeping it out in an arc around him. The tightly concentrated heat was white-hot, almost blue, and the force was enough to bodily throw the heavy beasts to the ground, and the orcs clear off their mounts. 

But now a bone deep weariness was setting in. Bilbo wheezed and panted. He had never used such level of power before. He could feel his fire, expanded and strong, but it was his body that could not keep up the effort of molding it any longer. He was lucky it had kept up this long, as it seemed that only a handful of orcs were still atop their mounts and breathing. Azog, for of course he was one of them, gave Bilbo a furious but considering look, snarling something in his harsh language, advancing slowly towards him. 

And then the eagles came. At first he hadn't known what they were, nor if they were friend or foe. But then they started plucking dwarves from the battlefield and from the tree. One swept down to gently gather Thorin in its deadly talons and flew away. Others snatched at the remaining foes, flinging them off the cliff. Bilbo gave a shuttering sigh as a blast of wind met his face and thick talons encircled his body. His feet left the ground, and soon enough met another eagles back. Bilbo clung to the thick feathers as tightly as he could in his barely conscious state. But it was okay, Gandalf had pulled through for them yet again, and they were saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't blame the dwarves for not reacting. Remember many of them are half falling from the tree, and didn't even see him. Those who did still had other things to worry about, like Azog the Defiler.


	5. It was misunderstood

Bilbo would have found the time to be surprised at how gently he was deposited onto the carrock, if he weren't so tired. As it was, he could scarcely hold himself up. Bilbo staggered closer to where the company was huddling. Bombur and Gloin moved out of the way for him, and Bilbo spotted Gandalf backing away from a struggling Thorin. With several pairs of dwarven hands at his back and arms, Thorin managed to stand, meeting Bilbo's eyes immediately.

Bilbo couldn't help the relieved grin that escaped him. Thorin was moving, breathing, blinking. He was injured, yes, but also awake. That was well worth the bone weariness in his limbs. Thorin staggered closer. 

Bilbo almost wilted at his harsh words. But then, “I have never been so wrong, in all my life.” And strong arms enclosed him. Relief and happiness washed over him again, and this time Bilbo couldn't hide the tremble in his legs, even as he returned the hug. “I'm sorry I ever doubted you.” 

Right in the middle of assuring Thorin, “I would have doubted me, too”, a wave of dizziness splashed against Bilbo's consciousness, and he wavered. 

“Bilbo, are you okay? What is wrong?” Thorin snapped worriedly, clasping Bilbo's shoulder. But he wasn't very sure footed himself, nearly topping the both of them. Before either could, Bilbo felt hands holding him up. Dori was at his shoulder, holding him up while Dwalin steadied Thorin. 

“I believe Bilbo is just exhausted. He did exert himself tremendously, after all.” Gandalf responded, and as if he had cast a spell, about half of the company zeroed in on Bilbo immediately. 

“Yes, I could scarcely believe it. Fire erupting from your hands, like a wizard. But you're not a wizard, are you? You don't have a staff.” Kili was the first to speak, others agreeing desperately while others only voiced their confusion. 

“What's this about a wizard and fire? Gandalf was throwing those pinecones, wasn't he?”

Bilbo was confused, and he didn't think he could attribute it to his tiredness for all that it made him dizzy. “What are you all on about? It was just my element.” 

“Element?” Thorin questioned. “How are you able too talk about such powerful, strange magic as if it were commonplace?” 

Gandalf cut them all off, suggesting they find somewhere to settle down for the night. “Bilbo's fire was enough to set back Azog for now. He'll need to wait a bare minimum for enough of his soldiers and their wargs to recover. So we will take the opportunity we've been given and set up camp. Then you can all explain your differences.”

No one had an argument to that, for all that everyone was very confused. Luckily, the carrock they had been dropped on had a small path leading down to great crags of rock that would serve to protect them. But first, the company took a moment to gaze across the horizon to a beautiful sight. The lonely mountain lay in the distance, their destination set out clearly. 

To say that both sides, hobbit and dwarf, had been carrying some massive misunderstandings would have been an understatement. Gandalf slowly, and with great detail, explained the mysterious element bending of the hobbits. When he was done, Bilbo just shook his head. “Gandalf, you make it sound much more grand than it is. I can hardly believe it myself that other races don't have this ability. To think, all this time...” Bilbo trailed off guiltily. 

“What, you're crazy! If I could bend an element, you can be sure I'd show it off all the time!” Fili assured Bilbo, mind racing with the possibilities. “All of them sound so cool, don't they, Fee? But, of course, fire's definitely the best, right Bilbo?” Kili joined in. 

Bilbo just chuckled. “I wouldn't say that. My mother had wind, and my father earth. I dare say both would have been more helpful back then. And honestly, ones bending is meant to be private except among friends, family, danger, or on the festivals. Since I was the outsider, I just thought I wasn't a friend yet, or that you all thought badly of relying on it.” Bilbo probably didn't need to spell it out, but he felt better with his doubts in the air. 

The young brothers looked pained. But it was Bofur who leaned over to hug Bilbo. “I understand now. Back then, before the goblins, when I told you that you were one of us, you didn't believe me and it was because of this. I'm sorry for that, Bilbo.” 

Bilbo melted in the embrace. Any more dwarf hugs and he would turn to putty. “It's alright, Bofur. You couldn't have known. I was the one who decided not to share my thoughts. I imagine if I had, this would have been much different.”

Suddenly, Dwalin, who had been paying rapt but silent attention, sprung up. “The camp fire! Back with the stone trolls, it went out and the trolls thought it was Bifur.” Suddenly, murmurs of assent rattled through the gathering. 

“That's right,” Thorin mused, “It was you, then? I did always wonder what caused it to go out. And back then, one of the trolls mentioned that Ori wasn't too hot. I had always wondered about that. It looks like even back then you were using your element to help us.” 

With a shy laugh, Bilbo waved his arms in a dismissive gesture. “You remember that, of all things? That was quite embarrassing, actually. When Kili and Fili hadn't mentioned using an element to free the ponies, I thought it was meant to be a test of my sneaking skills, so I didn't want to use it much. But yes, I did put the fire out and heat my skin.” 

“We would never!” Kili objected, before Fili hushed him. “Actually, it sort of was a test. We didn't know you that well, you see, and wanted to see if you were a burglar after all. That's why I ran back to get the company while you were busy, we never wanted you to be in danger. Of course, If we'd known about your element, we would never have implied that you couldn't use it!” 

Balin, who was the closest dispenser of common sense, whapped both boys lightly on the back of the head. “I knew you two were at fault for that. And you told us that Bilbo had volunteered to go into there himself.” Both boys whined like petulant children, but accepted it. No one was truly much concerned about that anymore, as long ago as it had been. 

“Actually,” Ori hesitated, speaking up for the first time since landing on the carrock. “I would love to document this bending business as part of our journey. The discovery of an amazing hobbit magic, hidden from the other races. May I, or would you like your people's secret to be kept?” Bilbo thought on that. He really wasn't sure. Bending had never been a secret, per se, but would it be smart to bring it to the front of dwarven attention? For being written about in the logbooks of the quest for Erebor would definitelty accomplish that.

He turned to Gandalf for guidance, who only shook his head. “Bilbo, you must make this choice for yourself, for I am not a hobbit.” 

“But how can I make this choice for all of the hobbits? I'm not even a Thain!” Bilbo objected. “I don't think I can have that kind of authority.” 

Gandalf shrugged. “I think you can. After all, it was never a true secret to begin with, and rather than taking responsibility, you are only deciding one thing. Whether or not you wish to make it a secret.” As was far too often the case, Gandalf was right. Bilbo deliberated for a few more moments before making his decision.

“In that case, you can go ahead, Ori. We always assumed that the other races knew about it, anyway. I'm worried about people who might see hobbits as a threat, since we are the only ones with bending, but I hope they will understand that our hobbit nature hasn't changed with power. Maybe they will even acknowledge hobbits in a way. Not that we need to be acknowledged, mind you, but if they are going to look at us, I'd like it to be with respect.”

Ori agreed solemnly. “I'll do my best to give your powers all the respect they deserve in my description. Anyone who reads it will not take a hobbits gentle nature for granted again.” 

“Yeah, they better,” Nori replied, “I reckon you hobbits could rule Arda with tiny iron fists if you so desired, just based on what I've seen today.” 

“Oh, what? No, no, no. Of course not. Honest, I've never had as much power as I had back then. I hardly know what came over me. It was like my core just tripled in size!” Bilbo reassured, slightly nervous at Nori's almost scheming expression. 

“That, my dear boy, was having a clear enough drive. Courage, desperation, and love are all things that fuel bending. You were showing all three in spades when you stood against Azog. Love for the company, and desperation to save a life, as well as the courage to step forward all came together. I must say, I was quite surprised to see that fire was your element, though it does suit you well.”

Bilbo was flustered at Gandalf's praise, giving him a shooing motion and a halfhearted “You're playing me up”. 

“Now, you stop that nonsense, Bilbo. Gandalf isn't playing anything up. Why, when I saw you wreathed in white fire, whipping flame from your sword, I almost could have sworn you were some heavenly version of a balrog!” Balin praised Bilbo, only causing him to blush more. “I'm serious, laddie! It was truly amazing. In fact, why don't you show us again?” 

Bilbo paled. “I'm sorry, Balin, but I don't think I could do that whole thing again. I'm exhausted, and plus if I expel it in the wrong way, I could severely burn someone.” 

“Oh, that's rigt, I had almost forgotten. Fair enough, I apologize then, for being too hasty.” Bilbo waved the apology off. Only then, he was waylaid by Fili and Kili yet again.

“Can you just summon a fireball for us, then? I really want to see it up close! Just a small one, it doesn't have to be big at all.” 

“Stop bothering our burglar. He doesn't have to show you anything if he doesn't want to. Is it not enough that he exhausted himself in helping to save us?” Thorin griped at his nephews. But Bilbo didn't see the harm in compliance, not if it were a small flame. And then when Ori leaned forward eagerly, quill, ink, and paper at the ready, Bilbo couldn't help himself.

Holding one hand up for them all to see, Bilbo swiped the pad of his thumb across his fingers as if striking a match. A flame the size of a strawberry flickered to life, and Bilbo was sure to catch it in his palm, where it gently rested, hanging slightly above the skin. The younger members of the company practically fell from their seats leaning forward. The others looked just as awed, but held themselves with more dignity. Still, Bilbo could see the child like curiosity in their eyes. He carefully fed as much energy as he dared to the flame, swelling it to the size of an apple. 

This earned him an exclamation of surprise from Ori, twin gasps from Fili and Kili, and quite a few widened eyes from around the circle. All for a simple little flame. Bilbo smiled. Caught up in his own assumptions, he hadn't even considered what the reaction could have been, if they had not taken so well to the idea of hobbits and bending. Only after the fact could Bilbo take a moment to appreciate that they neither feared nor resented him for what he could do. 

They had accepted him, and as far as Bilbo was concerned, all was right in the world.


	6. dragon's breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the company takes a breather at Beorn's, Bilbo gets a little bit cocky but also not really

Despite the many revelations of that night, the next dawn saw the company packed and moving. Even though they had managed to throw a wrench into Azog's relentless chase, they all knew he would be pressing forward the very first second he could. Which, considering that Azog himself was not the one injured, meant that the orc would be striking a balance between lost time and lost troops. 

Luckily, Gandalf had an acquaintance in the area where they could take some time to recover. The only problem, being that he apparently didn't like dwarves. Of course. And naturally, they ended up being chased into the dwelling by a massive bear, that turned out to be said acquaintance. Who happened to be a skin changer, not that Gandalf deigned to let anyone know until after they had locked the angry bear out of his house. Wizards, Bilbo thought ruefully. He could see why Gandalf appeared to have just as many enemies as allies- often in the same people. Radagast might have made the most interesting first impression, but mark his words, Gandalf was the real crazy one. 

To Gandalf's credit though, it did work out and there was no blood spilled at all. When Beorn had sneaked back into the stables in the night, Bilbo had almost had a heart attack- the skin changer was huge. Much taller than even Gandalf. But by the time Bilbo woke up properly and sat at the overly large dining table for breakfast, he only felt guilty.

Honestly, they had forced a man to break into his own home in the middle of night, and skulk around like he were some burglar. Much like the dwarves' invasion of Bag End. To that end, Bilbo gave his own apology to Beorn, on behalf of the company.

Beorn just laughed, having already been sold on hosting them by Gandalf's story. “I thank you, little bunny. However, no matter how much I dislike dwarves, it takes more than that to make me uncomfortable in my own home.” Bilbo could only smile in gratitude and leave it at that. For all that he was thankful for the refuge, Beorn struck a very intimidating figure.

It was probably inevitable, since they were stuck here until everyone was recovered enough to press forward. By everyone of course, that meant Thorin- by far the most injured. No one would dare mention it though, seeing how much Thorin was already frustrated with himself. Everyone wanted something to distract themselves with, Thorin probably most of all. That was why Bilbo was suddenly getting requests from every which direction to demonstrate his bending.

It wasn't that Bilbo didn't want to, it was that he wasn't really prepared for it. He threw them off for the first few days so he could recover all of his strength (as he was only tired out, and not especially injured). After that, Bilbo would oblige the many requests with a simple flicker over his fingertips, or a shower of sparks from his mouth.

While true that Bilbo considered them friends enough to freely share his bending, he was truly unused to it being such a spectacle. It almost felt like he was preparing to show off in the festivals. Except Bilbo couldn't do anything near so fantastic. Judging by the amazement of the dwarves though, Bilbo knew he would have to show them a real hobbit bending festival someday. Maybe a few years down the road after they get Erebor back. 

But for the meantime, Bilbo was almost hounded. “Can you make fire shoot out of your feet too?” Fili would ask. “Can you do a fire cartwheel?” Kili would prompt. Then Bofur would ask Bilbo how large of a fire he could hold in his hands, and Dwalin wanted to see that fire-blade trick again and if it actually helped in combat. 

Ori was the one Bilbo was most willing to demonstrate to. He would eagerly ask Bilbo this question or that question so he could put it into his book. Bilbo still felt a little worried about putting down so many details, but he could still take comfort in the fact that this wasn't anything close to a complete record of bending. It was only the account of a single, slightly above average fire bender. 

Plus, it felt nice when Ori would gasp in such awe when Bilbo performed the simplest tricks that tweens would practice among one another. Feeling his ego just a little inflated, Bilbo decided to try a trick that he hadn't managed before. Dragon breath was a a fair bit more advanced than the average parlour trick, as it required a fair bit of control and power to pull off and not burn one's tongue. This was because fire coming from inside the body was closer to one's core and therefore much hotter. It required control to manage the heat that was enough to even overcome a firebender's resistance to burns, and power to create a steady flow rather than quick burst. 

Bilbo wasn't an idiot of course, he found an area with large flat boulders, and made sure the wind wasn't going towards the nearby grass or trees. Bending or no, fire safety was important, especially with fire that would be this hot. Bilbo also made sure to tell everyone to leave him be for an hour, as the chance of accidentally burning someone was high if he got surprised. And now he knew there were no water benders to soothe any injuries.

All precautions taken, Bilbo took a moment to breathe and relax. He could feel his inner forge swell and dip with each inhale and exhale. The power boost from the previous battle was still there, surging within him and eager to leap out. It was remarkable, as the last time Bilbo remembered such an increase in bending was as an older tween. That was the standard age group for hobbits to expand their powers from the weak trickle of childhood to their full potential. After that growth period was when most hobbits, the respectable sort anyways, let their bending go stagnant until the few special occasions. 

Bathed as he was in admiration for his fire bending, Bilbo couldn't help but feel it as a bit of a loss. Only those hobbits that aspired to be professional performers at events tended to keep practising, and even they only did so in the months approaching those events. His fire leaped in agreement, but Bilbo tamped it down carefully. It wouldn't do at all to let it out so recklessly. 

Bilbo flexed his throat, stretching his jaws wide. How exactly to go about this, he wasn't completely sure. Not too many fire benders could actually breathe fire, so Bilbo hadn't heard much about how to do it. There were a few old tips from Bilbo's fire bending Took relative ( “Smoky” Took, people would call him, for his air bender siblings loved to blow his fires out at any opportunity), but no direct instructions. 

He started small. A tiny flicker of flame in his mouth. Bilbo managed it carefully, making sure it wasn't going to scald his cheecks or tongue. A slightly stronger exhale put it out before he was ready, and Bilbo coughed on the taste of smoke. Again, then. 

Bilbo didn't know how long he stayed there on that flat boulder. He only measured time by the progress he made, as his fire became slightly brighter, went slightly farther, stayed slightly longer. Eventually, he figured out the most important trick- how to link his core directly to the physical source of the flame. He even figured out just where to source the fire to where it would be the safest and most useful. Just behind his teeth. When he blew properly, the fire would leave in a tight stream between his lips, then would rapidly expand and billow out like the fog of one's mouth on a cool day. 

Dimly, Bilbo noted that the sun was setting just as he did it for real. It wasn't a perfect dragon's breath. No, it was nothing like what the few masters in the shire could do, morphing their dragon breath into an actual dragon's visage, having it twist and turn in the air, the fire of its belly blue-hot while it's legs and tail flickered orange red. But it was still a proper one, enough so that even the stuffier hobbits would admit its finesse. A great yellow orange streak poured from Bilbo's mouth as he exhaled. By his lips, the fire was a yellow-white, and only his control and heat resistance stopped his soft flesh from boiling. By the end of the flame, twice as long as he was tall, the colour faded from orange to a cooler red.

Bilbo held it for a fair ten seconds before he allowed to to safely peter out. It was then that he heard a shifting behind him, a seizing breath. Surprised, Bilbo turned his head, trying to dissipate the heat before he burned whoever had sneaked up on him. 

Two things happened at the same time. One, he saw Thorin sprawled out on the ground, looking for all the world like a frightened child. Two, his tongue was numb. Then it was hot. Then, along with his upper lip, it exploded with a searing heat. The traitorous flames flickered out and Bilbo gasped, tears welling up almost immediately. 

He couldn't help a pained wheeze. By the Valar, it burned! Bilbo didn't remember the last time he was burned. Regular flames could hardly touch him, and he had never been one to practice his bending before, respectable gentle hobbit that he was. And then there was Thorin. Bilbo might have cursed if he could move his tongue. What was Bilbo thinking? How could dragon breath bring anything but flashbacks for someone whose home was stolen by a dragon? And Thorin was clearly caught in memory, for he hadn't looked that shade of frightened even when Azog was about to kill him.

Thankfully, for both Bilbo's guilty conscious and physical health, Thorin broke out of it almost immediately after Bilbo's distressed moan, mouth opened wide to increase the small comfort that air brought. In a flash, Thorin was dragging Bilbo by the arm to Beorn's house, shouting for Oin. “What were you thinking, Bilbo, burning yourself like that? Mahal, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

Bilbo would have apologized if he could speak. He would have apologized for even thinking of learning fire breath. As useful and impressive as it is, Bilbo was an idiot for not considering the mental effect it might have. But he couldn't speak, only follow meekly, sucking in loud gasps and failing to actually cool the damaged flesh. 

Oin had thoughtfully picked through the fields nearby Beorn's for plants that could be made to soothe burns as soon as the opportunity arose. Clearly, he was used to thinking ahead. Bilbo didn't even bother feeling indignant about it- even though it had implied that he wasn't trusted not to burn anybody. Instead, Bilbo guiltily listened to Oin's lecture, as well as several others once they heard what had happened from Thorin. Of course, Thorin had neglected to include his episode, not that Bilbo would have brought up even if he could comfortably speak. 

Gandalf only gave Bilbo an exasperated sigh, telling him to be more careful, and that he was lucky the accident had happened when the fire was almost out anyways, or it could have been much worse. Beorn was equal parts interested in bending, which he had only noticed snippets of and hadn't asked into it yet, and worried about the risks of starting a wild fire. 

Bilbo was very lucky indeed, for his burns had just healed by the time Thorin was fit for travel. They had to get going as soon as possible, so it was incredibly convenient to not be worrying about bad tasting creams and poultices in his mouth. The night before they left, Bilbo made sure to give Thorin a proper apology. 

“I promise not to blow fire again. It was awfully inconsiderate of me not to think of what it could remind you all of.” 

But instead of gratitude, or perhaps anger at the silent acknowledgement of the flashback that had so clearly happened, Bilbo was met with a quick denial. “No, no. Don't hold back on your gift for my sake. Practising a skill like that could save your life, though I'd prefer you to be more careful with it.”

“But- you were afraid, I saw it in your eyes. I don't want to be a reminder of Smaug. I don't want to have any sort of connection to the beast.” 

Thorin shook his head fervently. “No, I was only overcome out of surprise. I hadn't known what you were trying to do, and then I just saw the fire. But I'm prepared now.”

“Still,” Bilbo bit his uninjured lip worriedly. 

“Don't worry yourself.” Thorin tried to comfort. “In fact, it would actually be gratefully helpful to me if you can continue to refine your bending. Just think of how much safer you would be if you could employ that on the battlefield. You would be untouchable.” 

Bilbo couldn't help a small smile. “Except for projectiles. Even my fire isn't hot enough to burn an arrow before it would strike me.”

“Then you can intimidate them into submission. No one knows about hobbits' true power, and especially not about yours. Seeing anyone, hobbit or otherwise, blow a swath of deadly fire across the battlefield, would be enough for any sane being to flee in fear.” 

This made Bilbo shift uncomfortably. “I'm not sure I really want people to be afraid of me.” 

“Why not? Hobbits are a non-violent race, are they not? You should be happy to have foes dropping their weapons in submission, rather than fight to the death.” 

“I guess.. I can see your point. Still, I'd rather avoid having the fight in the first place.” 

“We would all prefer that, Bilbo. But it often isn't a possibility. Just remember that in a battle, you're already at a disadvantage. Your fire is just something to even the playing field, and I don't want you to have any qualms in using it to your advantage. Use it just like you would your sword or your light feet.”

Bilbo sighed, but agreed. Thorin slapped him on the back. “That's all I can ask, then.” Then Bilbo was off to his bed roll to sleep. They needed all the energy they could get to face Mirkwood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no this isnt baggenshield, but it is relevant, trust me.


	7. Star skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer- I never read the books and the movie tells us jack about how Bilbo figured the escape plan. So this is pretty much 100% bullcrap. You've been warned

The travel through Mirkwood went almost as badly as it could have possibly gone. First, there was the lack of sleep, as no one could get very comfortable surrounded by the oppressive atmosphere that Mirkwood commanded. Then there was the lost wandering, the disappearing of the trail. After that came the hunger as their supplied dwindled. Then of course came the spiders.

His fire was absolutely out of the question for that. First of all, they were surrounded by flammable trees and grass. Second, it was obvious that everything was in some form of decay, which meant it would go up all the easier. Most importantly though, all of his friends were covered in that sticky spider webbing, and while Bilbo wasn't sure how easy it would be to catch, at the very least, it increased the surface area from which they could catch fire. Even after breaking out, wisps of the material lingered on everybody. Being a fire bender, Bilbo could also extinguish fires, but it took a concentrated effort and even he wouldn't be able to stop it if a true forest blaze caught on. 

So Bilbo had to deal without his bending, and honestly, he thought he did fairly well. Not perfectly, mind you, but he felled some spiders with his small blade, and managed to free his friends without anyone perishing. If Bilbo was honest, he would admit to being a little proud of his actions. They were relatively brave, and he might as well have not had any bending at all. 

Not that he had the time to feel any pride. Not when the Mirkwood elves came to capture them, topping off their series of unfortunate events. The only saving grace in all of this was the magic ring that allowed Bilbo to follow them without being caught himself. Even then, Bilbo was pretty sure that he nearly lost his toe slipping through the entrance just before it was slammed shit behind him. 

Bilbo took his time in formulating an escape. First, Bilbo made sure he knew exactly where all the dwarves were kept. It was hardest to find Thorin, as he was held apart from the others, but find him, Bilbo did. Then he made sure he knew of several good hiding spots- it made him dizzy and a little sick to be wearing the ring for so long, so he had to have a safe spot to remove it. Bilbo tried his best to memorize the guard schedules as well. It could hardly be called a schedule, to be honest. No one seemed to be expecting any real escape attempts, and in fact Bilbo noticed some of the guards actually skipping their duty in order to avoid being near the dwarves. That only made Bilbo's job easier. 

Not that Bilbo's job was going to be easy, he knew that. For all that the elves didn't expect anything, they still kept close watch of the keys. From listening to whispers, Bilbo knew there was to be a part some time from now, and maybe then they would be less watchful? But that was a long time from now, and they didn't have such time to waste. After all, surely Azog was on the move again, and it would be just their luck to end up ambushed by orcs right after escaping the elves. No, he had to figure something out sooner than that. 

What could he do, though? Bilbo brainstormed in his hiding space behind the oldest wine barrels in the cellar. He thought of causing some sort of distraction, but there wasn't much he could do without making it known that there was an intruder. If he were to distract, it would have to appear an accident. He could perhaps make a lantern burst, and cause a small fire (the fortress was, after all, made out of a surprising amount of stone, so Bilbo could rest assured that he wouldn't be destroying their entire home). However, there was no guarantee that those guarding the dwarves would be the ones to leave, and even if they did, how would Bilbo secure the keys? And where would they run to? 

No, before any kind of escape from the cells, Bilbo needed to figure out an exit strategy. So far in his scouting, he hadn't found much hope. There were few exits, and all seemed impossible. Perhaps if he could get the keys quietly, then cause something to distract from the doors? 

Bilbo was startled from his musing when an elf opened the cellar doors. Although he was fairly safe, buried at the far back as he was, Bilbo put the ring on anyways and watched. The elf was dragging an empty barrel, and placed it beside several other barrels. From previous observation, Bilbo knew they were empty as well, although one had some compost material in it, and the others were in various states of disrepair. The elf pulled on the curious lever device that Bilbo had been too afraid to test earlier. The floor opened up beneath the barrels, and they all went tumbling below. But it wasn't into the darkness of chambers below- it was to the bright light of day and the sound of rushing water. 

Bilbo could scarcely believe his eyes. It opened up over the river! This was precisely what he needed! A quiet, out of the way exit that was only lightly guarded. Sure, it would be a bit perilous, but they could get some barrels for floatation. There were bound to be plenty of barrels around this place, what with there being so many elves. Most likely, not all of them would be disposed through this waste chute, simply because they could be re used, but they shouldn't be hard to find and gather. If worst came to worst, they could just empty some. It would be such a shame to waste their alcohol, but there did seem to be an excess. Probably for that party that was coming. 

Once the elf left again, Bilbo came out and tested the lever. It was tough to pull, but once Bilbo managed to put his weight behind it, the lever moved with a creak and the floor opened again. Now that he was looking, Bilbo could see the ridges of where trap door met real floor. There was plenty enough space to fit 14 barrels for 14 escapees. 

That being solved, Bilbo investigated the cellar more closely. It was a large room, considering that it was only for drink. Bilbo had been to the food cellars as well, and thanked the elven architects that the waste chute was here, instead. For obvious reasons, the food storage had a lot more visitors coming in and out. Here, he only had to contend with a few visits throughout the day, as well as once in the evening when an official looking elf would read over the inventory sheet and make sure it matched the stock. The first time that happened, it had nearly given Bilbo a heart attack because he had thought they were looking for him. 

Bilbo found that the empty barrels were scattered, mostly left to the places they were emptied. Others were empty, but still had lids that were tightly sealed on. Bilbo wanted to scold them for the uncleanliness of it all, but that was neither here nor there. Besides, it was entirely possible that they frequently went through to remove, clean, then refill them. For now though, there was enough for about half the company. Bilbo would have to rely on dwarven strength to empty and make use of the not-entirely-empty vessels. 

With one problem solved, Bilbo decided to visit the company again. He tried to make himself very scarce in case of discovery, but still made sure they knew he was about. It was just a shame that they couldn't really talk to each other without shouting across the corridors. 

After reassuring each dwarf that he was okay, Bilbo relayed his discoveries. Most of them were quite impressed, though Bombur and Oin did express some misgivings towards the water. Neither of them were competent swimmers even by dwarven standards. From what Bilbo knew, dwarves swam about as well as hobbits did, which was barely. But the barrels should stop them from drowning, and they weren't about to let an escape chance slide away due to petty nervousness. 

Talking to Nori was the most useful. He had talked a bit before, about how “If only I had my tools, I could lock pick us free before those elves knew what hit them”. But there was no way to get at such tools. All of the dwarves' belongings had already been split up throughout the fortress. The weapons part of the treasury, which was guarded too strongly for Bilbo to sneak into, and other possessions pilfered by sticky elf hands. They probably figured the dwarves would never agree to any deals that would involve the return of their possessions and a favour to the elves. It was probably smart of them, too. 

But even without his tools, Nori at least had experience with escapes. “You've done the hardest part, lad. Finding a way out is where most people get caught. They get out of their cell only to have nowhere to go. Now, to spring us out, you just need to get those keys. Preferably at night time, so we can be out before they have the chance to chase us...” Bilbo listened carefully. Nori held good advice, and Bilbo resolved to keep better track of where the keys went. Not that he didn't already, but now he had a singular focus.

Bilbo already knew that the keys were always in rotation, and that Thorin's key was separate while the others were together, just like the cell placement. When a guard finished his shift, he would pass his keys onto someone just coming into their shift. Bilbo could try quietly taking one out just after changing shifts, but that was risky since Bilbo wasn't accustomed to knocking people out. Most likely, he would hit too hard and kill the poor elf, or he wouldn't hit hard enough and he would sound the alarm. So violence was out.

Bilbo did have nimble fingers, and he wasa wizard-proclaimed burglar. He could probably slip the ring of keys off without the guard noticing. The only problem was that, lazy or not, they were well trained. Bilbo had observed them before, and every so often, like clockwork, each guard would pat at the key ring absently. It was clearly an ingrained instinct, drilled into them over training. When he told Nori of this, the dwarf was grudgingly impressed. “I hate to admit it, but the dwarven guards I have to deal with would have caught me quite a few times if they trained themselves into such a habit. Tricky creatures, those elves.” 

“So, what can I do, then? I can't use violence, and I can't just steal them.” Bilbo whispered back, desperate for ideas. 

Nori tilted his head to the side, and stayed silent for several long moments. “Is there any way you can switch the keys with another set? They don't have to be too similar, I imagine.” Bilbo thought about it. It was true that the dungeons held many sets of keys. He'd seen them, many sets locked onto pegs set into the wall. There was a master key somewhere, Bilbo assumed, that would unlock the pegs allowing rings to be removed. The rings themselves seemed to be organized, each set for a particular section of hallway. That was mostly speculation on Bilbo' part, though.

Privately, he wondered how practical it was to have different keys for every cell. Most likely, they didn't, but clearly there were some differences since different keys were required. Some of them probably repeated, but since Bilbo didn't know which ones would, he could probably spend weeks trying to figure it out. He could probably swap a ring not in use with the one held by the guard, but he had no idea how he would go about unlocking the pegs to get at the rings. 

That's when Bilbo got an idea. He wasn't quite sure if he could do it, but he did see a hobbit smith work once. They were few and far between, but hobbits would not have gotten very far as a race without at least some variation in trades. Making food and drink might be the most admired and noble professions, but not everyone could do that. There had to be hobbits who could construct furniture, plan out a structurally safe Smial, create metal tools. The rare hobbits who took to tool making were always fire benders, and there was a good reason for that.

The one time Bilbo had seen it, he had been curious but not enraptured. It was an interesting thing to watch, but such workings were seen as crude and lowly in hobbit culture. For all that Bilbo had been an adventurous child, he had also been a bit close minded, as to be expected as a child of two well off families. They called it 'Star skin', or 'Star gloves', because the smith's hands would become so bright from heat that one could scarcely look at it. But for all the heat that would be concentrated in the fingers, no fire would be outwardly created. This allowed the hobbit-smith to easily bend and shape, and even cut metal without the big, complicated forges used by the other races. Of course, it was probably something about those forges that made the tools of other races higher in quality. There was a good reason that hobbits weren't known for their metal working skills. 

Bilbo had never tried making star gloves before. There was never a need to. But he was pretty sure he could do it. After all, that time fighting the wargs was almost like making star skin over his whole body, only not nearly so hot. Surely he could do it if he concentrated on just his hands. 

Bilbo thanked Nori for the advice, and finished visiting the other dwarves. Finally, he ran out to where Thorin was held, letting him know that everyone was still okay, and to be prepared for anything. To his pleasure, Thorin didn't even demand the idea that Bilbo clearly had, only reminding him to be careful. Bilbo agreed, and then he was off. 

When Bilbo noticed most elves settling down for the night, and the night shift guards coming in, he came back out of hiding. The room where all of the keyrings were held was guarded, but not zealously so. Bilbo had first stumbled across it hoping that it held everyone's belongings. All he had to do was slowly inch the door open a slit and make sure that the elf sitting inside wasn't facing the door before slipping through. 

This guard was definitely absorbed in daydreams, staring off into nothing. Bilbo imagined it must be a very boring post, especially since there were very few cells filled, not counting the company. It was lucky for the escape plan that theses elves did not have too many criminals, or if they did that they were punished differently. It meant less watching eyes. It was also lucky that the guard's eyes were not trained on the keys, instead staring into the corner where two walls met. It was close to the door though, so Bilbo would have to be extra careful upon leaving. 

With the ring on, Bilbo couldn't really see colour very well. So when he brought his hands up in front of himself and started pooling heat into his fingers, there was no way to tell if he actually had star skin. To be safe, Bilbo kept concentrating his fire, pushing the brunt of his new found strength under his skin until he could see the air shimmering around his hands, even with the shaky ring vision. 

Then, he closed his hands around the nearest key ring and squeezed. It was a peculiar feeling. The metal didn't immediately melt under his fingertips, like he'd half expected. It was a slow thing, feeling at first like he hadn't any heat at all. But as he continued to hold it, willing the heat to spread, to transfer into the thin metal, it started to soften. It softened less like melting chocolate, and more like clay that had to be squeezed and pressed before it was malleable enough to mold into shapes. But Bilbo didn't want to shape the ring, he wanted to pull it off entirely and so he waited, squeezing harder and shaping his hands so that his touch concentrated into one point on the ring. 

It took several long minutes, making Bilbo sweat with the effort. But it paid off, Bilbo felt the metal finally give a little under his grip. Then it gave more, and Bilbo could pinch it, indenting it between index and thumb. He pinched a bit more, creating a strip of extra thinned metal. Then, hooking his fingers inside the ring and closing the less heated palm of his hands around the keys to muffle them, Bilbo gave a tug. The melted metal didn't snap right away, instead stretching even thinner as he pulled. But with a bit of quiet jostling, Bilbo managed to sever the ring from the peg. Before the ring could get too misshapen, he pushed the ends back together and tried to even out the thickness of the band. 

Bilbo sat in the corner opposite to where the guard was facing, holding the key ring together as his fingers returned to normal, until he was sure it would stay together. It took even longer than heating it up in the first place, and Bilbo suddenly understood why tool makers doused their creations in water when they were done. He was sure that the keys were still much too hot for anyone else to touch, but hopefully it would be cooler by the time he swapped keys.

Just to be safe though, once Bilbo sneaked back out of the key room, he ran to the cellar, thankfully abandoned, and poured some drink over the keyring. The loud hiss told Bilbo that it had been a good precaution. For once, he barely spared any thought at all to the no doubt expensive alcohol he had just wasted. 

No, he had better things to do, like running back to the cells and searching out their guard. First would be the one that held Thorin's key. It would be easier to take him to the company than take the company to him, and plus, they were closer to the cellar. As expected, the guard wasn't actually nearby Thorin's cell, instead at the opposite end of the hall. Bilbo almost wanted to snort, exchanging the key rings was easier than finding him in the first place! 

Thorin's face when Bilbo showed up with the set of keys was almost priceless. “Burglar?” He whispered harshly, but also fondly. “I knew you would come through for us, but it hasn't even been a full week yet.” His voice was full of admiration, to which Bilbo could only ask that he didn't thank anyone just yet. They had to get out first, after all. 

Trying to sneak a fully visible dwarf king through the dungeons was probably the most nerve wracking part, besides of course sneaking the entire company down to the cellars. Everything else was simple by comparison. He simply switched the company's keys with the ring that held Thorin's now useless cell key. Then it was just a process of elimination in matching key to lock, through admittedly the long time it took was enough to make everyone twitchy. 

When they got down, there were enough empty barrels for most of them, so Dori and Dwalin volunteered in emptying a few more. Bilbo thought they took entirely too much pleasure over spilling so much elven ale. “With any luck, this is the good stuff. Though, all elf drink is probably terrible.”

Of course, when it came to getting into the barrels, the dwarves were much less pleased. Some went in right away, others waited until Thorin gave that commanding stare of his before sullenly scrambling in. When Bilbo was about to pull the lever, Nori leaned out of his barrel and gave Bilbo a raised eyebrow. “If you open that, how are you going to get in the water?”

Bilbo paused, and looked around himself. “...Good point.” He thought for a moment, then stepped over and pulled his barrel to the side. “I'll open the hatch, then grab my barrel and jump in. It doesn't close back right away.”

Nori gave him a very skeptical look. “Maybe one of us should do that? Who here's the best swimmer?” 

Bilbo hushed him. “No, I'll have none of that. What if someone comes down here, while we're arguing? It's my escape plan, I'll not have anyone else hanging back to be caught if it fails.” 

Nori started to protest, as well as several of the others, but Bilbo was too scared of the noise they were starting to make. Without listening, Bilbo heaved on the lever, and the dwarves slid down into the river below with surprised shouts. True to his suggestion, Bilbo immediately sprinted the few steps over, grabbed the rim of his barrel, and leaped, not minding the gut clenching height or the icy, rushing waters below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the end result is pretty much like canon, but remember they're escaping much earlier in comparison to the canon timeline (that I've mostly pieced together from fanon). I hope it didn't bore you guys too badly.


	8. Doused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the company escaped from Mirkwood, but at a price. The sudden and prolonged exposure take its toll on Bilbo, who is vulnerable to it as a fire bender.

Bilbo had lived through the fell winter. He had bathed in rivers before. He thought he knew what cold felt like. But if this was anything to go by, Bilbo did not. His entire body protested as water splashed all around him. In seconds, his barrel was useless, having tipped over due to his weight only being on one side, and the water rushing by. By the time Bilbo could breathe again, his head above the flowing water, the barrel had sunken somewhere behind him.

He should have listened to the other shire fire benders. Especially that Brandybuck that he had a conversation with once- and Bilbo had felt bad for her, Brandybucks were almost always water benders. Cold water was a fire bender's worst enemy. But Bilbo had forgotten- there was a big difference when one could slowly ease into a cold stream. It was entirely different to have that soul sucking, cold wetness pushed on you all at once. 

Vaguely in the distance, Bilbo heard the dwarves calling for him worriedly. It was all he could do to keep his head up and his limbs moving- it felt like his very core had been smothered and Bilbo found it hard to breathe even without the threat of water. But after some effort, Bilbo managed to focus on the nearest Barrel. It no more than a metre or two away, holding an anxious Nori who was reaching out as best he could. Distantly Bilbo wanted to laugh. For the first time, he could see the family resemblance as Nori's expression was now very much like one Dori wore often, though perhaps more panicked. 

Steeling himself, Bilbo pushed out with his legs. He knew how to swim, and he was going with the current, not against it. He could do this. It was hard, though. Bilbo felt like he was pushing through sand, every mechanical stroke very difficult. Likely, it was only the speed of his beating heart and the need to escape the ice coating his fire that saved him. Bilbo's foot ended up pushing against a rock- the river must be shallower than they thought- giving him just a bit more propulsion. 

He didn't manage to touch the barrel, but that wasn't needed. Bilbo's arms reached out, and were seized by strong dwarven ones. Nori tried to pull him into the barrel, but this nearly upset it and he had to stop, Bilbo only half out of the water. “Hold on, burglar!” Nori shouted, the spray of the rapids still much too loud. 

There were several more close calls, either through a particularly tricky twist of river, or from Nori trying to get Bilbo out of the water again. But there was no way- if Bilbo was pulled any further up, it would tip and they would both be in the water. So instead, Nori grunted an apology and held Bilbo's arms in an iron grip that would make Dori proud. 

By the time the river calmed and lost its speed, Bilbo could feel nothing but coldness and numbness. He tried to reach his core to restore some heat, but it was hidden away, snuffed by the icy water. In fact, Bilbo could hardly even hold on to the barrel, drained as he was. If it wasn't for Nori, no doubt Bilbo would have fallen back long ago. He also took over all of the paddling, as even with calmer waters it was faster to paddle by than to walk when everyone was soaked and tired from the escape. And when Thorin ordered to pull ashore as the lake loomed up in front of them, Bilbo managed to stand upright, but only just.

Hands steadied him as dwarves began trudging onto dry land. They had been incredibly lucky that not even an alarm had sounded, allowing them to slip under the portcullis. Of course, as they passed, the elves at the gate shouted an alarm, but the river was much too quick- they had escaped. Still, in an hour or so, the elves could catch up, so it was decided that they had best keep walking just in case the elves were that desperate.

Personally, Bilbo couldn't understand why the elves would go to that length of trouble, but most of the dwarves agreed that the safest bet was to be well out of Mirkwood's borders. This would have been nice if there was a convenient boat to sail them across the lake, but there was no such thing in sight, despite there being a nearby dock. They would have to go around. 

“It might be risky, but if we're lucky the orcs will be at least half as lost in Mirkwood as we were.” Balin reasoned. 

“It's our only choice, we can't afford to sit at these docks and wait for a boat that might not even take us.” Thorin responded. “Besides, even if our orc followers aren't lost, our trail leads right to Mirkwood. They would likely stake the fortress out to take us on our escape.” 

“Ah, only we've already escaped.” Bofur interrupted, face coming alight at the idea. Or at least, Bilbo thought it did. His vision was rather hazy at the moment. 

“So that means the orcs could be held up even longer, if they don't realize we got out before them.” Fili ventured. 

“-And we have all the evidence of escaping with us here.” Kili added, looking at the barrels thoughtfully. 

“Then we should remove the evidence somehow. In case they send a scout down the river to check.” This came from the ever practical Nori, his voice coming from behind Bilbo. This caused Bilbo to turn around- it's impolite not to face someone who's speaking, after all. Only the turn was more sluggish than Bilbo intended, and he stumbled with a slight yelp. 

“Easy there, Bilbo. What's wrong?” Dori was the one to steady him this time, one hand holding his left shoulder up. Bilbo glanced at him, then at the crowd of suddenly concerned dwarves. 

“I'll be fine,” Bilbo wheezed, sounding the opposite. “Just cold and wet.” 

Thorin frowned. “Can you not use your fire to warm yourself up?” Bilbo could only shake his head, shivering with the reminder of just how blocked he was. Carefully, Bilbo explained the matter. He was not expecting the reaction he got.

“You stupid hobbit! If you're weak to water, why didn't you let me pull the lever?” Nori was the first to shout, outraged. 

“I agree!” Dori was too incensed to even be bothered by agreeing with his wayward brother. “That can not possibly be healthy, having such a part of you doused like that!” Gloin and Bombur and Balin made sharp nods of agreement. Meanwhile, Bofur, Bifur, and the young trio looked horrified while Thorin and Dwalin put on an expression that mirrored both concern and annoyance.

Oin just rolled his eyes in exasperation “Save me from the suicidal tendencies of halflings. Well, we ought to get you warmed up then, I suspect.” Being a dwarf of action, no matter his age, Oin gave a critical glance to the barrels. “Those will be no good as fire material. And we'll be needing some fire to warm up out burglar.”

That snapped the rest of the dwarves out of it. Everyone inspected their clothing as if they had just realized everyone was some degree of wet, even the most dry of them- which somehow ended up being Bifur and Fili- was rather damp. The worst of them was still Bilbo though, being soaked to the bone, and Nori who had spent most of the ride halfway out of his barrel. 

Taking charge once more, Thorin ordered the barrels pushed out into the lake. If this were a regular method of elf waste removal, then the barrels would wash up with whatever else was thrown out and would bear no evidence of being used by dwarves by the time the orcs came around. As for the elves, it didn't matter what they saw, as their escape would be well known by now. 

Thorin also decided not to trek too far, though ordered for any firewood to be picked up. Smoke may not be the best of ideas, but it was a risk they would have to take. The orcs would hopefully be too far back to catch it, and hopefully they would be far enough along that the elves would not follow. After all, it wouldn't look good for them to be abducting travellers that had already exited their woods. If their agreements with the men of Laketown were anything like with Erebor, they would not be allowed anything of the sort outside their realm. Then again, it didn't seem that these elves were too keen on honouring agreements. 

Luckily though, Bilbo could put one foot in front of the other. He was slower than they would have liked, though none had spoken up. It was obvious though, for the many glances back and the offers to carry him. But Bilbo brushed it off even as his shivers became stronger. 

Having one's fire put out through physical means rather than emotional means was similar, but also wholly different. He could compare the situation with that of the goblin cave. From emotion, the stuff was still there, and still accessible, it was just one's mental state that barred one access. Which is why, though weakened from the disconnect, he had been physically okay. Of course, the problem of emotional blockage was that it could last indefinitely, and had it carried on longer than it had, Bilbo would have faced steadily worsening symptoms.

Here, Bilbo felt like a wrung out towel. And from the tremors of his body, he just knew he would be getting a nasty sickness. Hobbits who had their cores blocked physically were many times more susceptible to illness. Once again, he envied the earth benders. Their power was by far the hardest to block physically. Water could be evaporated by heat and dryness. Air could be stagnated by being locked away in small spaces. Fire, of course, could be doused by cold and wetness. But Earth could only be cracked by truly dreadful wounds. 

It was with great relief when they finally stopped. At that point, Bilbo could only hear buzzing in his ear, and distant voices. He couldn't really keep his head up, as his eyes only caught blurs and shapes that were hard to place. It was only with a dwarf speaking right near his ear that he paid attention. And he only knew that for the quiet orders spoken by Nori.

“Alrigh', Bilbo. Let's move over here.” Bilbo felt himself led to the side. “We're almost done, Dwalin is lighting the fire, see?” Bilbo didn't see, but he mindlessly nodded anyways. “I know you've got your hobbit sensibilities, but I'm going to strip your wet things off, okay?” Bilbo was much too far gone to see where his sensibilities had gone off to. Most likely, they were lost in the elven dungeon, or even earlier, in the twisting paths of Mirkwood. Bilbo gave no protest, only barely feeling fingers help to unbutton his shirt, and peel off his trousers. But he did feel the air hit his exposed skin, shying away from even more cold.

“The fire's started, you'll be warm before you know it.” Nori soothed, and Bilbo couldn't help but lean into the body. Any other time, he would be mortified- he was only left with the barest amount of clothing to cover his privates after all. This, however, wasn't any other time. And Nori didn't seem to mind, only giving a slightly disapproving hum. “I'm nearly as wet as you are, that won't do you any good.” 

Nori didn't push him off though, nor did he even sound particularly scolding. So Bilbo swallowed, mind too muddled to be polite. “Take your clothes off too, then.” Bilbo mumbled. “We can both dry.” He could barely put the words out there, but Bilbo was sure he'd been heard. Nori froze at that, and Bilbo heard what could only be an embarrassed chuckle.

“Yer really out of it, aren't ye? Fili and Kili will never let you live it down.” Fili and Kili did answer with something, but it was too far for Bilbo's current limited range of hearing. But it sounded amused. And Bilbo knew very well he was out of it, which was why he didn't protest and instead twisted around at the heat he had just begun to feel. It pricked ever so slightly at his back. The heat wasn't much at all, and Bilbo's own heat was still smothered, but it was enough. In moments, Bilbo slipped into a fitful sleep, oblivious to the dwarves around him who were too busy to do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter might be more of a set-up for the next one, I'm afraid. It's also a bit of an exploration into the physical limits of benders- and I know the blocking works different in avatar than I'm portraying it here, but I'm already doing a crossover of avatar and hobbit, so of course there will be liberties taken.
> 
> Also a bit of an experiment in Nori/Bilbo. I'm considering it, but as of right now they do not feel anything other than friendship. Nori was just closer at the time. Bilbo did not mean anything deeper than stated when he told Nori to take his clothes off, but I do so enjoy the image of Nori being too surprised to make a sarcastic/suggestive retort as he might usually.


End file.
